Under Cover
by QueenZenobia
Summary: Agents Hotchner and Prentiss go undercover with a joint task force to save D.C. from an uncanny terrorist attack.
1. Chapter 1

_**From the Author: Okay, so I know this has been done like a hundred times. But I really, really wanted to do one, too. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading.**_

* * *

The BAU briefing was scheduled to start at 9:00 A.M. sharp, but it was now 9:05 and the Unit Chief was still behind closed doors with Director Strauss.

"This can't be good," predicted Agent Morgan with a characteristic humph. The team gathered around his desk in the bullpen and turned their gaze towards the boss' office upstairs.

"Why? What do you know?" inquired Dr. Spencer Reid.

"The same thing you do: Hotch is never late to a briefing."

"That's true," commented J.J. "And he knows we have a case. I wonder what's going on."

"We'll soon find out, kids," replied Agent Rossi, but his eyes glued to the office window revealed that his curiosity was equal to, if not greater than, theirs.

Morgan noticed Emily's silent contemplation and asked, "Any thoughts, Princess?"

"I'm not sure," she responded. "But I think I saw my FBI picture in Director Strauss' files just now."

"Maybe you'll make the _Most Wanted_ ," laughed Morgan but then he grew serious when he noticed that no one else was amused.

"Or maybe I'm getting transferred," she worried.

"What?"

"Transferred?"

"Where?"

"No way!" assured Penelope. "I mean, like, no possible way! I would have known it. I pride myself in keeping tabs on that kind of information."

"Oh, is that what you call it? Keeping tabs? It's more like making it disappear," joked Morgan and Penelope poked him in the ribs.

"Why else would she have my picture?" asked Emily.

"Let's not speculate, okay. That'll just worry us more," started Rossi, but he stopped talking when the door finally opened and Director Strauss walked out. Hotch poked his head out and summoned the team.

"Ma'am," they greeted as they crossed paths with her.

"Agents," she responded, and Emily noticed Director Strauss's inquisitive eye scrutinizing her.

"Hotch, what's going on?" asked Derek as soon as he entered.

Hotch took his place at the round table as the others shuffled around him. "Apparently, it's that time of year again when we have to make our contribution to Counter Terrorism."

The team groaned and J.J. complained, "You know, we work just as hard as they do, and I don't see any of them helping us to round up a serial killer."

"And we risk our lives just as much as any of them do," added Morgan.

"Nevertheless, it is what it is," sighed Hotch. "Fortunately, this time they just need two of us. Prentiss, it's you and me."

"Me, sir?" So that would explain the photograph.

"Yes, we have to report immediately. The rest of you will have to tackle the case."

"With two agents short?" asked Morgan.

"Yes," said Hotch. "And you take point on this one, Morgan, if it's okay with Dave."

"Fine by me," said Rossi who more than welcomed Morgan's ambition because it meant less paperwork for himself.

"Okay, so be safe and come back to me in one piece! Prentiss, let's go."

He walked out and Emily hurried after him.

"Sir, isn't it this way?" she pointed to the east wing.

"Nope." He turned around to observe her reaction when he said, "Not this CTU. We're going to the Counter-terrorism Center, in Langley."

"The CIA?" she drawled wide-eyed.

"That's right. Interested now?"

"Hell, yeah!"

On the drive to Langley, Hotch had just enough time to communicate the basics to an eager Agent Prentiss. It was a sting operation right here in Washington, D.C. They would be working in the field under Carrie Mathews.

" _The_ Carrie Mathews?" asked Emily in awe. "I can't believe it! The woman is my idol, Hotch."

Hotch smiled at her enthusiasm.

"And what's the job?" she asked.

He nervously cleared his throat and said, "Oh, look. We're here."

"God! This is so awesome. You know, to finally get noticed. I mean they picked me! Surely my work at Interpol must have really recommended me to them."

"Um, I'm not sure that's why they're using you," he said nonchalantly. "Come on, we don't want to be late."

Emily kept her cool as she walked into the CIA building, hiding her excitement behind her professional mask. She was oblivious to the male agents turning their heads to look at her as she walked by.

Hotch and Emily were greeted by the CIA Station Chief, Carrie Matthews, just outside the conference room. Hotch made the introductions, "Agent Matthews, this is Agent Prentiss."

The women shook hands and Emily started, "Ma'am, it is such a pleasure to meet you! You have no idea…"

Agent Matthews cut her off and told Hotch, "Yes, she'll do perfectly. Please come in and get seated."

Emily's face went blank and she looked at Hotch. His gesture said, "I have no idea what that was about."

They entered the conference room and Agent Matthews presented them as "The BAU agents that are lending a hand." Emily noticed a few agents nodding their approval.

"Okay," continued Matthews as Emily and Hotch sat down. There were about twenty people in the room. "Can someone get the lights, please?"

The room went dark and a face was projected on the screen.

"Everyone meet 21-year-old Awais Younis, also known as Sundullah "Sunny" Ghalzai. He is an American citizen currently studying at Georgetown Law School. Our intelligence has identified him as the leader of a terrorist cell with at least six known associates." Six more faces filled the screen as Agent Matthews read their names.

"We have identified their headquarters at this facility, D.C. Paintball Club. It's a legitimate business used as a terrorist training camp. We have a window of opportunity: they're recruiting someone to manage the legitimate paintball business. And that's where you two come in. Our asset has successfully scheduled an interview for the two of you. You're going undercover as Hotch and Emily Tanner."

Hotch immediately turned to Emily to gauge her reaction. Little did she realize that she had stopped breathing.

"Are there any questions so far?"

"Yes," said Emily raising her hand.

"Go ahead, Agent Prentiss."

"What makes you think we'll get the job? This is an interview, right? What if we don't get the job?"

"Weren't you briefed? Let's look alive, here, Agent Prentiss." Matthews projected two pictures side by side. One was Emily's FBI photograph and the other was of a woman with an uncanny resemblance to her. "This is Awais Younis' mother, who recently passed away. We believe hands down, you'll get the job. Are there any other questions? No? Then let's get to work, people."

Emily pulled Hotch aside and said, "Can I have a word, Agent Hotchner?"

"Here it comes," thought Hotch.

They found a private spot in the hallway and then she said, "You have got to be kidding me! You mean to tell me that they only chose me for my looks?"

"No, not entirely," he responded, surprised that this was her only worry.

"Hotch, she doesn't know anything about me! She just knows that I look like a terrorist's mother. Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"Because I knew you would react like this. Look, Emily," soothed Hotch. "It's not like they recruited you at a modeling agency. You are a member of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. I'd like to think that that weighed into the decision as well. Besides..."

"Besides, what?"

"Don't you think there's something else you should be worrying about?"

"Like what?" she asked.

"We have to pose as husband and wife. We're going under cover as a couple."

"Oh, crap, that's right!" she cried in apprehension. But then a stray thought crossed her mind. "This could be very interesting!"

* * *

 _ **From the author: That's what I meant when I said that this has been done. But I invite you to join me on this new Hotch-Prentiss journey. I think it will be fun!**_

 _ **BTW: My purpose here is to entertain, Homeland and 24 style, not to disseminate political or religious views. So please keep that in mind when writing your reviews. (And reviews are very, very much wanted!)**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you for your reviews greeneyedconstellations, Firefly0829, Julia BC, Guest, and rmpcmfan. And thanks to those of you following the story. I hope it is as fun to read as it is to write it! Here's a new chapter. (I'm supposed to be working, but I'm fooling around with Hotchniss. Don't tell my boss!)**_

* * *

Agents Hotchner and Prentiss were each given a thick dossier and were immediately taken to the safe-house where they were to periodically meet with their handler. The drive seemed eternal to Hotch. He felt strange not being in control on a mission, and he was very nervous about this assignment. How were he and Emily supposed to act as a couple, exactly?

Hotch made it a habit to view his female subordinates as family members. Penelope was his little sister, J.J. his daughter, and Emily… Well, if he was being honest with himself, he had to admit it never worked quite so well with Emily. He had mentally slapped himself more than once for allowing his eyes to stray on her body. But he had never given in to the temptation of fantasizing about her. So how was he expected to even touch her now? And worse yet, how could he continue to work with her at the BAU after this mission?

But a glance at her face eased his mind. She wasn't the least bit concerned. On the contrary, she was excitedly rambling about how cool this was, that they were actually spies. "Get a grip, Hotch!" he told himself. "Everything's going to be okay."

"You're too quiet," she said suddenly. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm worried that you're too into this. You belong with the team at the BAU, so don't be getting any ideas about turning to the dark side, okay?"

Emily laughed, "Now, why would I ever be attracted to anything besides hunting serial killers?" His brows knit together and she added, "Don't worry. The chances of my recruitment to the CIA are pretty slim, considering they only want me here for my pretty face."

He sensed her disappointment and said, "Don't say that. That's not true. And even if it were, you'll show them otherwise. Agent Prentiss, you are top-notch, in any playing field. You know that, right?"

She appreciated his words and warmly said, "Thanks, Dad. But you know, from now on, you have to start thinking like a husband."

Hotch fell into a coughing spell at the unexpected remark.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he said between coughs.

When he regained control, she said, "Hotch, I know how difficult this is for you."

"Damn profilers," mumbled Hotch.

She smiled and asked, "You know how out in the field you ask us to trust you?" He nodded, feeling like her subordinate, and she continued, "Well, this time I'm asking you to trust me. I've done this before. I'll get you through this, okay?"

Somehow, her words made him feel better. "Okay, Mom," he smiled, and she playfully elbowed him.

* * *

The BAU agents made it to the Georgetown safe-house and met their handler Phinehas Stein.

"Finn?" asked Hotch incredulously.

"The one and only!"

Emily watched as their hearty handshake turned into a bear hug. Hotch enthusiastically said, "Finn, this is Agent Prentiss. Prentiss, Finn and I go way back to S.W.A.T."

They chatted briefly and Emily took the opportunity to profile him. The two men were complete opposites. Finn was short and chubby, while Hotch was tall and well-built. They were about the same age, but Finn sent out the _I'm a grandpa_ vibe. But overall, Finn was bubbly and happy, and there was a transparency about him that invited trust. Yes, she could work with him.

"So," said Finn clearing his voice. His official tone cued the start of the briefing. "I've been instructed by Agent Matthews to turn you two into a couple. I don't know how we're going to pull this off by the day after tomorrow. With you I can work, Agent Prentiss, but this guy… he's as stiff as a surf board."

Emily burst into laughter and said, "He's actually pretty great once you get to know him."

"You two know I'm standing right here?" asked Hotch in mock displeasure.

"Well, at least you look good together." Emily's cheeks turned red, and Finn laughed, " _That_ right there, is what I'm talking about. That won't do. Come on, let's get started."

The three agents went through the dossier. Hotch and Emily's role was very simple: run the paintball business and gather intelligence through surveillance.

"So what kind of a threat are we dealing with?" asked Hotch.

"Awais Younis is a low-level terrorist, but we believe he's connected with Isis through more powerful family members. Study your watch list, and the day any of them show up is the day it's going down."

"And what is the nature of the suspected attack?" asked Emily.

"A bombing of the Metro."

"Okay, so what's the plan?" asked Hotch.

"Our asset coordinated your interview for Wednesday. Awais Younis already retrieved your files. You both have a record and some jail time. You move around a lot to avoid suspicion. For the last two years you were Florida residents. Emily arrived first to rent a house in D.C. Hotch, you're arriving tomorrow. Our asset believes the cell will start surveillance at the airport."

"What kind of terrorists are we?" asked Emily.

"The worst kind: hired guns. You'll take any cause, if the price is right."

Hotch and Emily exchanged a glance. They had to become –for however briefly– what they hated most.

"Okay, I'll tell the driver to take you to your new home now. Eat something, then study your cover and drill each other. I don't want you to leave that house until you're Hotch and Emily Tanner. I'll keep in touch."

* * *

Hotch and Emily's new home was outside the city. It was a tiny house in a secluded lane with spacious woodlands on either side. Emily ran inside like a child to explore every inch of it while Hotch gathered their meager belongings. He was still speaking with the driver when Emily yelled from the door, "Hotch, you've got to come check this place out! There's a tree swing in the backyard!"

It took Hotch about a minute to walk through its entire kitchen, dining, and single bedroom with a bathroom. But it was charming and cozy. He opened the patio door and was pleased with the surrounding nature. "Yes, this will do," he said.

"Hotch, our closet and bureaus are full of clothes!" she yelled from the bedroom. "With all kinds of great stuff!" She kept yelling because she thought he was outside, but when she turned around she ran right into him. He steadied her with his arms and she felt a tingling sensation where his hands were touching her.

"Well, _Mrs._ Tanner," he said playfully. "What's for dinner?"

"Why are you asking me?" she responded with a challenge in her eyes.

"Where I come from, the wife does all the cooking!" he retorted.

"Well, where I come from, a husband will die of hunger if he doesn't know how to order take-out!"

"Our first disagreement. I think I want a divorce!" They laughed and then he led her to the kitchen, as if holding hands with Agent Prentiss were the most natural thing in the world.

* * *

 _ **This chapter was in Hotch's point of view. Next chapter will be Emily's. (**_ _ ** _ **rmpcmfan, I think your observations will be addressed in the new chapter:)**_ Thank you for reading!**_


	3. Chapter 3

When Agent Emily Prentiss faced something she was immediately unwilling to deal with, she folded it up very neatly, put it into a box, and locked it in the vault. But Emily's system had two flaws. First, the space in her vault was not infinite, which meant that at some point she had to open one or two boxes, and deal with whatever came out. The second flaw was more serious: sometimes a box opened by itself, usually at the most inauspicious moment. And that's when she finally had a bad day.

When Emily learned at the CIA briefing that she and Hotch would pose as husband and wife, she locked it away into the vault, and decided to deal with this particular box at bedtime, under the protection of darkness and privacy. But at this precise moment, as Hotch laced his fingers through hers and led her through the charming little house they would share as a fake couple, the Hotch-box opened up. Her heart beat wildly and she felt that familiar ache she thought she had long overcome. It was the ache of wanting what she could not have.

And now that the Hotch-box was open, she had questions. How was she going to hide her feelings for him while pretending to be his wife? Surely there would be more physical contact than just holding hands. How would she deal with it? And how would she return to business as usual at the BAU after this mission? The ache would only grow after each day in his intimate company.

Unaware of her mood, Hotch searched the refrigerator, the freezer, and all the cabinets. "Excellent! Well stocked," he said. "Does chicken and pasta sound good?"

"Yes, thank you."

"What, no smart ass remarks?" he laughed. "Emily?"

"Yes?"

"Where did you go just now?"

"Hotch," she sighed, "my mind is racing!"

"Okay," he said pausing all activity. "Tell me."

"I hardly know where to start."

"Whatever comes out first. That's a good place to start."

"I'm just wondering: How are we going to do this? I mean, we have to keep working together _after_ …"

He knew exactly what she meant. "So it finally hit you."

"Well, let's just say I've been postponing it."

He sat next to her at the tiny kitchen counter. "I've been worrying about it, too. Finn said our dossiers have materials that will help us. What do you say you start looking through them, while I make us Jack's favorite meal?"

"Okay," she agreed.

"But there's more," he said.

And that's when the Doyle-box opened. She nodded and he waited patiently. "I felt like this just before Doyle. And we both know I made bad choices then."

So that's what this was really about.

"Emily," started Hotch. "We've both made choices that will haunt us forever. I don't think we'll make the same mistakes. We'll make others."

They laughed and he continued, "There isn't anyone in the whole world I'd rather do this mission with than you." He didn't mean to say that, but once he did they both felt better. "And we'll work through it together. We'll find a way. Okay?"

"Okay," she smiled.

"Now let me ask you again, does chicken and pasta sound good?"

"Only if it doesn't kill me!"

"There she is! There's my Agent Prentiss!"

And indeed, Emily Prentiss was back. It was at that moment that she decided it was time to leave the BAU and its beloved but unattainable Unit Chief. The key to her future lied in this mission and in the capable hands of Agent Carrie Mathews.

* * *

Hotch and Emily worked deep into the night, cramming and drilling each other. But their concentration dwindled after drinking a bottle of red wine.

"Come on, Emily! Stop laughing. Finn is going to work us hard tomorrow and it'll be worse if we don't know our cover."

"I'm sorry!" she said. "It's just that I can't imagine you, the impeccable Agent Hotchner, doing time for weapons trafficking."

"Well, what about you? Scam artist. I should staple my wallet to my pocket before going to sleep."

"We're just a couple of thugs, aren't we?"

"I think we should start working on our marriage, Prentiss." At that they both started laughing again.

"Okay, let's see. Here we go. Question 1: When and where were we married?"

"That's easy," answered Hotch. "Vegas, six years ago."

"Of course," said Emily. "Not exactly honeymooners after the first five years. That will really let us off the hook on physical displays of affection."

"You see," winked Hotch. "I told you we'd work it out."

"Okay, anniversary date."

"Fourth of July!"

"Independence Day?" cried Emily. "What kind of a sicko ties the knot on Independence Day?"

"A weapons dealer," laughed Hotch. "He can just blow her away when he feels crowded."

"Oh, that's really bad, Hotch."

Emily loved this side of Aaron Hotchner. He looked ten years younger laughing with her.

"Aren't you going to miss Jack?" she suddenly asked, then quickly added, "I'm sorry, that's none of my business."

"No, no, it's fine. Yes, I'll miss him terribly. Especially tucking him in at bed time. But at least I get to tuck you in."

He burst into laughter and Emily said, "Okay, now I know you've had too much to drink."

They soon fell asleep right there in the living room, Emily on the couch, Aaron on the rug, and their CIA files crumpled up beneath them.

* * *

A cell phone rang and they heard it as if in a faraway place. Hotch and Emily slowly stirred to consciousness, then fully awakened when they realized they were in each other's arms. Hotch fell off the couch and rubbed his eyes. He answered the phone and put it on speaker, "Finn, what time is it?"

"It's 9:00 A.M., Hotch Tanner. Your mission begins in four hours and you're sleeping? I expected you and your wife to be up hours ago, learning your cover."

"We know it already," said Emily craving her morning shot of caffeine.

"Oh, yeah? Well what's your husband's grandmother's dog's name?"

"Fido!" she grunted.

"Very funny. You know what's even more funny?"

"You mean _funnier_?" she asked, her attitude worse by the second.

"What's _funnier_ is if you get yourself killed for partying instead of studying. This isn't college, Emily Tanner. This is your CIA terrorism boot camp! Now get your butts over here pronto!"

"Hotch!" she groaned.

"I know, coffee. Strong coffee. And lots of it."

* * *

This was it: Tuesday afternoon at the airport, when their mutual lives as Emily and Hotch Tanner would officially begin. Agent Prentiss, donning her make-over as the impressive Emily Tanner, made her way to the passenger pickup area.

"Okay, everyone call in," instructed Agent Carrie Matthews on the com set.

"Prentiss here."

"Stein."

"Alexander."

"Hotchner."

Emily felt a flutter when she heard his voice. The deep baritone that always made her feel safe now wreaked havoc on her nerves. Airports were emotional places for couples. Some kind of physical display would be required to establish the relationship, if it came down to it.

"Incoming," said Drew Alexander, the CIA asset that infiltrated the terrorist cell. "Two o'clock."

"Roger that," said Emily casually glancing in that direction. A young Arabic man held his smart phone ready to record. So the terrorist would be watching! it finally came down to it.

"Enter Hotchner," said Agent Matthews. "Prentiss, go."

Agent Prentiss watched through the glass until Hotch appeared. He was a different man without his suit and tie. With his hair slicked back and that leather jacket he looked like a bad boy. Emily Tanner smiled and waved frantically at her lover through the glass. Hotch Tanner waved back at her before picking up his suitcase on the conveyor belt. After a cautious glance at his surroundings he joined the crowd that eased toward the exit. With each step that brought him closer, Emily's heart raced faster, until he was through the glass doors. She ran to him and he dropped his bag on the ground to lift her and whirl her in the air. She slid to his chest and their lips met passionately, plowing through each other's mouths.

"God! I missed you, sweetheart!" he said with an excitement in his eyes that she had never seen before.

"I missed you, too, baby!" responded Emily and they hungrily kissed again.

"Let's get out of here," he said. He picked up his bag and put his arm around her shoulder. She put her arm around his waist and the Tanner couple walked out.

"Very well done," said Agent Matthews. "We're done here. Let's move out."

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading, if you're still with me! And any newcomers, welcome aboard!  
**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**So, yeah, I will eventually go back to include this detail in Ch. 2. I chose "Hotch Tanner" instead of "Aaron Tanner" because I figured it would be easier for Emily to call him "Hotch" in an emergency situation, since that's what she calls him on a day-to-day basis. Thank you greeneyedconstellations for your question. And thank you all for your reviews and for reading. I hope you enjoy the new chapter. I know I enjoyed writing it!**_

* * *

"Well, I must say I greatly enjoyed that," whispered Hotch into Emily's ear, making her turn every shade of crimson. He ran his fingers through her auburn highlights and said, "Prentiss, you look amazing. What else did you do in the whole two hours we were apart?"

"Just wait till you see your ride," she almost sang. Emily led him through the parking lot towards a black and grey Ducati.

"There's no way!" cried Hotch. "This is ours?"

She smiled as he circled the motorcycle eyeing it with incredulity. "I had a bike once, but Haley made me get rid of it. She was afraid I'd kill myself on it."

"Well, what do you say we take it for a spin?" Emily tossed him the keys.

With a full dimpled smile, Hotch secured his travel bag and retrieved the helmets. He helped Emily with the latch and she asked flirtatiously, "How do I look now?"

"Completely edible."

He mounted the motorcycle and said, "Wow! This is nothing like my old bike."

"You do know how to drive this thing, right?" she hesitated.

"I guess we'll find out." He turned the ignition and the distinctive Ducati rattle filled the parking garage. Hotch revved the twin engine and said, "Listen to that! So sweet!"

"I don't know if I trust you on that thing," she said playfully.

"Come on, sweetheart. I promise I'll be gentle," he said with sultry eyes. Emily had no idea what had gotten into him. This was not her austere Unit Chief. This bad guy was sexy and suggestive. And he made her so hot. She hopped on behind him and latched onto his back.

Hotch eased out of the parking garage getting a feel for the bike and for the girl behind him. Suddenly filled with a restless excitement, he said, "This is every guy's dream."

"Sorry to piss on your dream, Hotchner," came Agent Matthew's amused voice through the short-range com. "But you're going to have some company. Another man is waiting for you two by the main road. Your instructions are to lead him straight to the house, so they can plant their surveillance devices."

"Another guy? Not the one from the airport?" asked Emily.

"Negative. It's someone else."

"Who is it?" asked Hotch.

"We don't have a visual. He's in a dark blue BMW with tinted windows, license plate Bonnie, Unicorn, Mercury, one, eight, niner."

"What do you think, Emily?" asked Hotch.

"For low-level terrorists, they seem to have a lot of resources available. I mean, _two_ guys? I don't know."

"I agree. Okay, there he is," said Hotch. "We're just about to pass him. Emily, get a visual."

"I see him. Hotch, that guy was on the watch list!"

"Which one is he?"

"I can't remember his name. It was so late last night," she bit her tongue before adding _And I was a bit tipsy._ "But he's the second one on the third column."

"Did you get that, Matthews?" asked Hotch.

"You mean to tell me that you just saw Aamir Younis?" inquired Matthews unbelievingly.

"Yeah, that's the name, Aamir," assured Emily. "Our target's uncle, if I'm not mistaking."

"How the hell did he get into D.C.?" asked Matthews. "He's Isis, wanted in six countries."

"What are our instructions?" asked Hotch.

"Proceed as planned. We'll work it out over here," she concluded.

Hotch drove several miles, always a few cars behind Matthews' SUV, with the BMW in his rear-view mirror.

"Emily, I have a bad feeling about this," he started.

"What are you thinking, Hotch?" She trusted her Unit Chief's instincts. They had saved her life more than once.

"No, don't think at all," instructed Matthews. "I do the thinking."

The traffic slowed to a halt and Hotch placed his feet on the ground.

"Tell me something Agent Matthews," started Hotch. And Emily knew his tone meant trouble. "In your experience, how many Ducati drivers sit patiently through rush hour traffic?" And in a decisive maneuver he removed his com and zig-zagged his way through the vehicular lines. Emily winced when they passed the CIA Suburban and removed her com as well.

"Tell me," she said.

"Their intelligence is inaccurate. They don't know what the hell they're doing. And that woman wouldn't think twice about hanging us to dry if it'll help the mission."

"I agree," she said suddenly realizing she would miss this part of working at the BAU –the Unit Chief always put the team above the mission.

"And did you see that guy at the airport? There was absolutely no respect for me in his eyes. I would look differently at a psycho arms dealer, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I noticed that, too. So what's the plan?"

"We're heading to the safe-house. Agent Matthews and I are going to have words."

He was still speaking when a motorcycle turned out of an alley and fell in behind them.

"Hotch!" cried Emily.

"I see him," he said. "Hold on!"

Hotch flew through the streets of D.C. with the enemy in pursuit.

"We'll have to lose him!" he called back, and without warning Hotch veered to the right and down a subway tunnel. Pedestrians dodged him left and right and the Metro Transit Police radioed in the violation. Seconds later, the other driver came down the tunnel as well.

"We'll have company from the D.C. Police Department!" said Emily as the adrenaline rushed through her system.

Hotch raced through the dark, subway tunnel clear to the other side and drove up the long staircase to the outer world. He burst through a police blockade and was nearly hit by an oncoming bus. But he fell into the traffic with a police car close behind him. Emily looked back and saw the cops detain the enemy driver.

"He's caught!" she said through the wail of the sirens.

'"Great! Now we lose them."

"Hotch, just stop. They can call Matthews."

"No, if the enemy is monitoring the pursuit, we'll blow our cover."

He was doing 120 miles per hour now and he put some distance between the bike and the police cruiser. He just made it through a red light and the policeman screeched to a stop behind traffic.

"Over there!" pointed Emily.

"Yes!" said Hotch and he rode into the underground parking lot of a mall. He drove to the lowest level and turned off the bike.

"My God!" cried Emily with nervous excitement. "That was incredible! That was the most exhilarating moment of my life!"

Hotch laughed while removing his helmet and said, "And here was Hotch Tanner all this time imagining your most exhilarating moment was with him on the honeymoon!"

Emily removed her helmet and urged, "We have to go!"

"Wait! What about the bike?"

"We can't use it without another license plate. Come on, Hotch, you know that!"

"But they'll impound it!"

"Matthews will get it."

"Yeah, but she won't give it back to me."

Emily smiled at his childish pouting. "Just let it go, baby! Come on, you can do it."

They heard police sirens and Hotch had no choice but to dismount. Emily grabbed his hand and dragged him to the staircase.

"You made me leave my bike," he pouted. "I don't like you anymore."

"Oh, come on, I'll get you a new one. Let's go pick a rich man's wallet right out of his pocket!"

The echo of their laughter filled the stairwell followed by a discussion on where to have dinner.

* * *

 _ **What's a good undercover fic without a motorcycle chase, right? I wish I had the talent to write it better, but hey! It is what it is! I hope you enjoyed it!  
**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you, thank you for your comments. They keep me in the writing mood.**_ _ **You guys are the best!**_

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Emily Prentiss watched in awe as the CIA Section Chief stood her ground before the formidable BAU Unit Chief in all his glorious wrath. She did not turn her eye from the infamous Hotch glare, nor did she shy away from him when he stood face to face with her, a bellowing foot and a half above her.

"You don't intimidate me, Agent Hotchner!" she yelled back. Was she actually standing on her toes? Emily nearly started giggling at the sight.

"I've dealt with _real_ bad guys on seven continents, so back off!" Which, of course, he did not do. Undeterred Matthews continued, "Pull another act of insubordination and I'll report you to the subcommittee for obstruction of justice."

"Now, wait a second!" intervened Emily. "Let's relax and get our bearings, okay. Listen to me!" They both backed down and Emily continued, "Both of you, forget about who was right and who was wrong. We're sitting on a significant development. Isis is right here in D.C. and we practically have a foot in the cell. How do we proceed? That's what we should spend our energy on."

Just then Matthews' phone rang. She answered it annoyed, but as the conversation progressed her facial expressions revealed excitement. She hung up and gleefully stated, "The guy they arrested on the motorcycle is also on the watch list. I'm going down there immediately to interrogate him."

"We're going with you," said Emily decisively. "We're behavioral analysts and, frankly, you don't know what the hell is going on here. You need the input. Besides, I speak Arabic fluently." Matthews was surprised, so Emily added. "Yeah, that's right. I'm more than just the face you needed. Of course, you would know that if you had done your homework."

"Fine! Let's go," said Matthews. She was very rarely impressed. But this agent impressed her.

Emily added, "We'll ride with you now. And on the way back we can pick up the Ducati." Emily was giving the orders now, and the bickering Chiefs didn't seem to mind.

* * *

The prisoner was a highly trained operative. He gave up absolutely nothing. But the interrogation had not been in vain. A slight intake of breath when questioned about Aamir Younis let the behavioral analysts know that the terrorist's plan relied on his anonymity. That single fact helped Hotch and Emily to prepare for their interview with the cell.

"We'll probably be taken to a secret location," said Emily.

"And if we're not hired, they'll kill us," finished Hotch.

"Do you still want to go through with it?" asked Finn.

"Absolutely!" they said together.

* * *

Emily and Hotch were in position. It was 7:00 P.M. and completely dark at the rendezvous point, an abandoned parking lot outside the city.

"They're late," complained Emily trying to keep warm in the late autumn air.

"They're watching us," replied Hotch. "You can count on it."

"Yes, from that building, I'm sure." She approached Hotch and said, "Well, then. Let's give them their money's worth, shall we?" He watched her with huge eyes as she straddled the Ducati in front of him.

"What are you doing?" he asked incredulously but with a sly smile. His hands automatically went to her thighs, feeling the tight muscles beneath her leather pants.

"I've always wanted to make out with a hot guy on a bike," she responded while locking her hands behind his neck. "Like on Top Gun." And she met his willing lips.

"God, Emily, I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely into her neck after a while.

"For what?" she asked, tilting her head to give him access to her jugular.

"I can't control how my body responds to you." He gently sucked at her pulse point. She moaned softly and immediately felt the response he had referred to.

"Don't be sorry," she breathed, feeling like she would internally combust if he kept kissing and touching her that way. "I can't help myself either."

Their rhythm and intensity increased, but they came to a halt under the blinding lights of several approaching vehicles. The convoy circled them and a dozen armed men came out. Their automatic weapons gleamed in the headlights.

Hotch and Emily were on their feet, ready to draw their weapons. He stood slightly in front of her, as if shielding her.

The last man to get out of a dark Lincoln Navigator was Awais Younis. He reached them and gave them a scrutinizing look. "Hotch and Emily Tanner?"

"Who's asking?" retorted Hotch.

He stared them down as if deciding how to proceed. The agents profiled him as a man who had just received new power, and who didn't quite know how to use it yet. Finally, he said in perfect English, "I am Awais Younis."

"Well, aren't you a pretty, young thing?" said Emily brazenly with a clear laugh that rang into the night. "Yeah, we're the Tanners."

"I will ask you to surrender your weapons and your phones. Then we can go somewhere more comfortable to talk."

"What about my bike?" asked Hotch. "I won't just leave it here."

Younis smiled and said, "No, I wouldn't either. We can take it with us. Does that satisfy you?"

"I guess it'll do." Hotch tossed him the keys. At Younis' signal a man came for each of their weapons and phones.

"Now you be careful with that, little boy," laughed Emily handing over her Glock 17. "This is for grownups! I can teach you to use it sometime." From the corner of her eye she noticed Younis' amused smile.

"Please, step into the van," instructed Younis.

They walked the short distance to a service van and Emily stepped in. She noticed that the windows had been blackened, so they would not need to be blindfolded. Hotch was about to step in when he recognized the man next to the door. In a split-second decision, Hotch grabbed him into a choke hold. The man reached for his weapon but Hotch already had it. He cocked the pistol and pointed it at his head, while Emily's laughter filled the tense space.

"Mr. Tanner, is there a problem?" asked Younis calmy.

"This worthless scum was at the airport. I'd recognize his ugly face anywhere," replied Hotch.

"Yes, I believe he was," said Younis. "For all of our safety."

" _All of our safety_ , my ass. What about the guy on the bike?"

"Yes, well, right now he has more to worry about than you, doesn't he?"

Hotch smirked and then asked, "Why kill me the day before our meeting?"

"Consider it a skills test before the interview," smiled Younis. "Now can you let my man go?"

Hotch faced the man and saw fear in his eyes. "The next time you look at me, I'm going to end your pathetic existence. Is that clear?"

The man nodded and when Hotch released him he fell into a choking spell.

Emily's laughter increased and she said, "Baby, I asked you to be good."

Hotch stepped in and replied, "I couldn't help myself, sweetheart." And the door closed, muting their sinister laughter.

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 ** _Thanks for reading!  
_**


	6. Chapter 6

Awais Younis gave his men the order to move out. Seconds later the convoy was mobile. He dialed a number and said, "It's Sunny."

"Well?" came the voice.

"We're on our way to you."

"So they checked out."

"I leave their questioning to you, but, yes, I think so. The man is as we profiled: dangerous, cautious, skilled… but the woman is his weakness. He can be controlled through her."

"And what of the woman?"

"I do not know."

"What do you mean?"

"She is more than she appears. She listened carefully to my men. I think she knows our language."

"CIA, perhaps?

"That is always a possibility. Look deeper. Find her past and we will know for sure. We'll be there in an hour. Peace be upon you."

"Upon you be peace."

The van came to a stop and Hotch estimated that they had been on the road for about three quarters of an hour. They had crossed a bridge and the sound of gravel beneath their tires meant that they were on a back road. He heard a horse whinnying in the distance, so they were on or near a farm. Other than that, he had no idea where they were. But he knew they were being watched. As soon as he stepped into the van Emily carefully signaled toward the surveillance devices all around them. They couldn't be sure if there were listening devices as well, but they acted accordingly.

The door opened and Hotch and Emily stepped out into a warehouse. Emily immediately plotted an escape route: up the steel staircase and out through the second story windows. The fall would hurt, but it wouldn't kill them. She discreetly nodded in that direction and Hotch assented.

"This way, please," instructed Awais Younis and he led them toward an office trailer. "If you would kindly wait here."

"Thank you," said Emily. "You are so polite. Your mother did a very good job with you."

"Are you mocking me, Mrs. Tanner?" he asked with dark eyes.

"I make it a habit to never mock a man while mentioning his mother," she said. "I was offering you a complement. I don't see many men with manners in my line of work."

"I can imagine not." His smile was unsure. The mention of his mother had warmed his heart but brought out his prickly temper. He signaled for them both to sit. Shortly after, the door opened and Aamir Younis entered. Uncle greeted nephew heartily with many well wishes and a kiss on both cheeks.

"I see you have finally brought our guests," said Aamir. "Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Tanner."

"I'm sorry we couldn't meet yesterday as per your wishes," started Hotch testing the waters. "But I wasn't quite settled in yet, and I wanted to be with my wife before conducting our business. You can understand."

Aamir's behavior withstood the taunt unchanged, except for a slight narrowing of the eyes. He responded, "Yes, now that I see Mrs. Tanner in person, I believe that I can. _Marhaban. Kaifa haloki?_

"I'm fine, thank you, and you?" replied Emily.

"You were right, Sunny! Our Mrs. Tanner is more than meets the eye. Where did you learn Arabic?"

"You speak Arab?" whispered Hotch.

"Yes," said Emily never breaking eye contact with Aamir and then she said in native Arabic, "A girl's got to defend herself."

Aamir laughed in delight and said, "Surely you learned our language and culture during the six months you lived in Saudi Arabia with your father. But I wonder, did you learn our religion as well?"

"A little," she said. "Not as much as I would have liked."

Aamir lifted his brow in surprise and asked, "Where did you learn this? I wonder. Not on the base."

"I had a … friend who taught me."

"Do you mean Maaz Antar?"

Emily lifted her chin in defiance and Hotch asked, "Who the hell is Maaz Antar?"

"Do you tell him, or do I?" asked Aamir enjoying Hotch's discomfiture. The fact that a perfect stranger knew something that he didn't about his woman piqued Hotch Tanner's jealous nature. Emily was silent, so Aamir continued, "Very well. Maaz was Emily's first love, back when her name was Grace Pearson. Her mother had just died and her father was a UN weapons' inspector stationed in Saudi Arabia. No doubt you dated the brown boy to enrage your father. But you only hurt yourself, isn't that right?"

Emily looked away for the first time.

"Yes," said Aamir. "I should very much like to hear about your suicide bomber's final day with you. Tell me, did he teach you his faith?"

"That was a long time ago," she said with hardened eyes. "I'm afraid I don't remember much."

"These things are hard to forget. You may remember yet," he assured.

"And what about you, Mr. Tanner. What do you believe?"

"I believe in money, which is what I was promised I would find here. Shall we conduct our business or are we to spend the evening reminiscing about the dead brown boy?"

Emily darted Hotch a glance of disdain and Aamir grinned with pleasure. Oh, yes! He wanted her onboard, even if it meant withstanding her detestable American husband. With any luck, she would get rid of him herself.

* * *

The business negotiations took up the better part of the night. Hotch and Emily's duties and pay were settled and it was agreed that they would live off-site, surveillance free. They were scheduled to begin next Monday. So they had a few days to prepare.

Hotch and Emily spent most of their time at the safe-house coordinating efforts with the CIA. Agent Matthews was ecstatic that the BAU agents had pulled it off. They had infiltrated the cell! But she didn't want to leave anything to chance.

At home Hotch and Emily drilled each other on their cover until exhaustion. Tonight he had fallen asleep on the bed, and she didn't have the heart to wake him up and tell him to move to the couch. She lay down next to him and watched his chest rise and fall steadily. He was tired, the dark circles under his eyes made him look older. She gently pulled the covers around him and kissed him on the check. Then she turned off the light and snuggled in next to him.

* * *

It was the most erotic dream she had ever had. He was doing wonderful things to her and she didn't want him to stop. But in the moment she awoke she felt empty and terribly unfulfilled. She almost slipped her fingers under her lace-trimmed briefs when she remembered she was not alone. She opened her eyes to see his dimpled smile and smoldering eyes in the morning light.

"You were making the most delicious noises. What were you dreaming about?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she smiled slyly.

"You know, I can help you out. I will do whatever you ask." And his emphasis on the word _whatever_ sent her blood rushing through her system. But she didn't give in to temptation, needy as she was. Emily just didn't want morning breath to be part of the memory of her first time with Hotch.

"Go help yourself!" she giggled and headed to the bathroom.

In defeat, Hotch rolled onto his back and called out, "Mrs. Tanner, you're such a tease!"

* * *

Sunday morning at the safe-house, Emily had her last briefing with agent Matthews. Hotch paced outside, missing Emily. She was like a drug to him and he needed his dose. He realized what he was thinking, and so he used his free time to call Rossi.

"Hey, Dave, it's Aaron."

"Aaron! Glad to know you're alive. I have you on speaker, okay?"

"Look, Dave, I'm calling because I need some personal advice."

"Oh! I thought you were calling to check in on the team."

"Yes, that too. But it's Emily. She's driving me insane. We're undercover as a married couple."

"Well!" Dave's surprised enthusiasm made Aaron smile. "And how is that working out for you?"

"Let's just say I have all the husbandly duties and none of the benefits."

"Sounds like the end of each of my marriages!"

"It's all I can think about, Dave. Am I crazy? I mean, this is _Emily Prentiss_."

"You're undercover, Hotch. It's messing with your brain," laughed Dave.

"Plus, your evil twin has finally surfaced," said Reid matter-of-factly. "You can't be held accountable for anything he does."

Hotch nearly fell off his chair. "Dave, is Reid in the room with you?"

"The whole team is here, Aaron, and I told you you were on speaker."

"What part of _personal advice_ didn't you understand?" He imagined the astonished face of each member of the BAU and felt awash with shame. He finally cried out, "Dear God!"

"Calm down, Hotch," came J.J.'s soft voice of logic. "I'm glad we're here. We can all help you work this out."

"Work what out? How to get inside Emily's pants?"

"Hotch, if this is your frame of mind," came Morgan's fluent voice, "then you're going to get the both of you killed. You have to get your mind out of the sewer and back into agent-mode."

Hotch agreed. He took a deep breath and asked, "How?"

Morgan continued, "You said it yourself: This is Prentiss, and Prentiss is _not_ interested in a one-night stand. She wants –and she deserves– more than that. So you just wrap your head around that. And if I ever have to hear about you taking advantage of her, I'm coming after you, so help me God! You reading me?"

"Loud and clear, Morgan."

"Now, calm down, Morgan," said J.J. "No need to get so worked up. Emily's not going to let anything happen unless she wants it to. Does she want you, Hotch?"

"I think so, but it's our cover. I can't be sure."

"You have to talk to her. What are you wasting your time for, talking to Rossi? No offense."

"None taken," said Rossi.

"You have to talk to Emily, and then you have to give her some time to work through her boxes."

"What boxes?"

"Just some time to process it."

"I disagree," said Reid. "Time is of the essence. I think you two should consummate your fake marriage as soon as possible. Right now, in fact. Just hang up, go get Emily, and do it."

"Reid?" asked Hotch. "Did you just tell me to _do it_?"

"Affirmative. All that sexual tension will blow your cover."

"Rossi, what do you think?" asked Hotch with a frustrated sigh.

"I'll tell you what I think, Aaron, so you listen carefully. This is what you're going to do…"

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 _ **I love the team! I'm looking for a way to insert them into the story. Let's see. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you for your positive comments. Please keep them coming!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Okay, so this chapter features a love scene that might be a bit too strong for some readers, and not detailed enough for others. The first group can jump to the end for a summary. The second group, what can I say? Use your imagination! Everyone else, hope you enjoy.**_

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Emily Prentiss had reached a point in her life where celibacy was no longer a source of unhappiness. She learned to stop dwelling on what she did not have: a home with a husband and kids. Aware that married life presented challenges of its own, she did not idealize it. Instead she found satisfaction in advancing her career and she replaced her loneliness with meaningful friendships. In fact, she valued the freedom, independence, and economic advantages of being single. Yes, Emily Prentiss could truly say she was content with her lot in life.

But at this precise moment, entwined as she was with a sleeping Hotch, Emily couldn't help but wonder at this other happiness, the happiness of having been loved, of having lost control while crying out in ecstasy. Emily snuggled in closer to him and he didn't even twitch. It was as if he had been rendered unconscious by his vigorous efforts moments ago. His body radiated heat and he was utterly vulnerable. Emily reveled in this moment. She gently kissed his shoulder and lay her head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

Never in her wildest dreams had Emily imagined that it could be like this with Hotch. In her fantasies, intimacy with Hotch had been impersonal, each wordlessly taking what they needed from the other. So she was not prepared for the tenderness of his touch or for the attentions he bestowed upon her to prepare her body for him, or for the slow, unselfish way he took her, biding his pleasure until she was fulfilled. She had not expected that, even when his need was greatest, she would hear loving words or concerned questions about her comfort. And when he finally sought his own release, he did not hide from her that adoring look in his eyes that burned right through her. She could not have known that the emotional bond he offered would surpass their physical union. And she was blown away by the skill of his lovemaking. Thoughts of their liaison ignited her passions once again and Emily smiled.

But her smile faded. With very little need for persuasion, Agent Matthews had convinced her. Emily Tanner would infiltrate the terrorist cell through conversion to their cause. Eventually, Hotch would be left behind. He would be released from the CIA to return to the BAU, and Emily would continue in deep cover for however long it took.

"What makes you think Hotch is going to let that happen, Carrie?" Emily had asked during one of their briefings.

And Carrie had answered simply, "Because you're going to seduce him, Emily."

Emily laughed and said, "Let me tell you something about Hotch. He's not one to let his hormones cloud his judgment."

"I'm afraid that's where you're mistaken," replied Carrie coolly. "When it comes to you, his judgment is already clouded."

"What do you mean?" she asked intrigued.

"He was not chosen for this mission, Derek Morgan was. But Agent Hotchner wouldn't even consider it. Now, why do you think that is? He didn't want Morgan's hands anywhere near you. He wanted you all for himself." Emily blushed furiously and Carrie continued, "And obviously the feeling is mutual."

"It's not right, Carrie," decided Emily.

"It's not a question of right or wrong, Emily. You have to do what's best for your career. If you pull this off, I'll see to it that you make Section Chief. Besides, I'm not asking you to do anything you haven't done already."

Emily cringed. As ruthless as it sounded, Carrie was right. And deep down inside, Emily knew she and Carrie were cut from the same pattern.

"Alright, I'll do it," she conceded.

"I knew you would," said Carrie.

Emily's surprise was great indeed when, that same morning, right after her chat with Carrie, Hotch had offered her a solution to their little dilemma about intimacy.

"Let's get married," he said. Emily's surprised expression made him start talking nervously. "It was Dave's idea, and it makes sense. We obviously care about each other. And this case is threatening to tear us apart. So let's get married. And that way we can stay together afterwards, or if it doesn't work out…"

It made absolutely no sense! But in Hotch's world it was the justification he needed to work this case. And it was exactly what Emily needed to work her angle as well.

"Okay," she interrupted.

"What?" asked Hotch doubting that he had heard her correctly.

"I said yes," smiled Emily.

He was too happy to ask why and by noon they were at City Hall exchanging vows. She would have preferred Vegas. A service officiated by Elvis Presley left no room for doubt that an annulment would quickly follow. But as it was with the Justice of the Peace, the solemnity of the marriage vows hit her hard. She had to wonder if God was watching and just how much He cared or disapproved. And just because she immediately pushed these questions aside didn't mean she was exonerated from the answers.

But they went through with it and now she watched in amazement as Hotch stirred a little. He was beautiful, and his body was a chiseled work of art. She pressed herself against his chest and smoothed her hands along his back willing him to wake up. He smiled lazily and she felt other parts of his body awaken before he opened his eyes.

"Is there something you needed, Mrs. Aaron Hotchner?" he asked with a double-dimpled smile.

"No, not at all," retorted Emily suddenly concerned that she had seemed too eager.

"Oh, so you wouldn't mind if I went back to sleep?"

And giving in she said urgently, "Don't you dare!"

In a practiced, graceful movement, he slid her beneath him and said, "I don't think I'll ever sleep again." And he took her back to that special place she had been craving all her adult life.

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 _ **Basically, in this chapter, Hotch and Emily get married. And Emily plans to double-cross him for the advancement of her career. We'll just have to wait and see what happens!**_

 _ **P.S. I was very unlucky to lose one of my readers. (Apparently I missed a few episodes of CM that reveal Emily's true character.) And here I was thinking this chapter rocked. But, hey! You're entitled to your own opinion. Everyone else, please stay on board and feed me positive energy!**_


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